Don't despise the "little man"

The girl to whom Mozart was first engaged to be married became discontented with her choice when she saw more of the world, and gave up the composer. She thought him too diminutive. "I knew nothing of the greatness of his genius," she afterwards explained; "I saw him only a little man." How many of us act in the same way. We look on the outward person only, and forget that a very homely, even shabby exterior, may contain much goodness and greatness. [author unknown]

Don't despise the "little man"

The girl to whom Mozart was first engaged to be married became discontented with her choice when she saw more of the world, and gave up the composer. She thought him too diminutive. "I knew nothing of the greatness of his genius," she afterwards explained; "I saw him only a little man." How many of us act in the same way. We look on the outward person only, and forget that a very homely, even shabby exterior, may contain much goodness and greatness. [author unknown]

Don't despise the "little man"

The girl to whom Mozart was first engaged to be married became discontented with her choice when she saw more of the world, and gave up the composer. She thought him too diminutive. "I knew nothing of the greatness of his genius," she afterwards explained; "I saw him only a little man." How many of us act in the same way. We look on the outward person only, and forget that a very homely, even shabby exterior, may contain much goodness and greatness. [author unknown]

Anecdote of Thomas Carlyle

Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881) loved his wife. She loved to help her husband in his writing career. But she became ill with cancer and was confined to bed. Though he loved her dearly, Carlyle was so busy writing that he rarely found time to stay at her bedside.
The day of her burial it rained and the mud was deep. After the funeral, Carlyle returned home, deeply shaken. He went into his wife’s bedroom, sat down on a chair beside her bed, realizing he had not spent enough time with her in her illness.
From the bedside table he picked up her diary and began to read. One line smote his heart: "Yesterday he spent an hour with me and it was like being in heaven. I love him so." He turned the page and this time his heart was broken, for she had written, "I have listened all day to hear his steps in the hall, but now it is late and I guess he won’t come today."
Carlyle threw the diary to the floor and rushed back to the cemetery in the rain. Friends found him face down in the mud at the newly made grave. He was weeping, saying over and over, "If I had only known! If I had only known!"